And the Winner Is

It is quite pleasing to cheers That my unknown peers Have already written their master piece And with it, they're well pleased; Some of them, if not all, Are waiting for the final call; Yet, here I am still forcing little hand To grab the silvery pen That grandpa used in signing his will, To explore my own skill; But, the candle shape fingers picked A fine-rolled scented stick, Which I lit; For I couldn't resist it; Poisoning the fragile mind And the words I can't find; For I unwittingly nobbled the chance, 'Cos I didn't glance What it was trying to convey, And now, I keep my spirits at bay; If, I wrote nothing, still I won't lose courage and will To see the name of my unknown peer, Whose writing steer Word travelers, by fascinating poetry Uncovered by the quill of glory; Possessing charm and style That makes the judges smile; And after I read it, I say "Well Done!" For years pass by, its message won't be gone.